


School's Out

by CubbieGirl1723



Series: Teacher's Pet [6]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Drunk driving reference, F/M, Fluff, Summer Vacation, Washington D.C., canonical discussion of Aaron Echolls grossness, gratuitous starbucks, national archives, newseum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723
Summary: Logan surprises Veronica with a vacation.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Series: Teacher's Pet [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819003
Comments: 24
Kudos: 50





	School's Out

Retrieving their luggage from the back of Wallace’s SUV, Veronica and Logan wave as he pulls away from the curb. 

Wheeling her suitcase behind her, she follows Logan inside the airport but halts the minute her feet cross the threshold. 

“Okay. We’re at the airport. Now you have to tell me where we’re going.” 

Turning around and tugging her out of the flow of traffic, Logan laughs. 

“I don’t know. Keeping a secret from Veronica Mars is awfully fun.”

She refrains from stomping her foot, but just barely. “All you told me was to prepare for hot and humid weather and to bring my walking shoes.”

He scrutinizes her denim jacket, capri leggings, and Nikes. “And you look perfect.”

Logan places a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose, but Veronica growls. “Tell me. Now.”

“Down, Bobcat.” He has the audacity to chuckle at her. “Let’s get coffee and I shall.”

Sauntering away, luggage rolling behind him, Veronica weighs the pros and cons but ultimately coffee wins out and she follows. 

“‘Go on vacation with me,’ he said,” she mutters. “‘It will be fun,’ he said.”

“You’re so grumpy when you don’t get your way.” Logan wraps his arms around her in the coffee line and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you.”

Pulling away to see her face, his eyes dance with excitement. “We’re spending the week in Washington, D.C.”

Veronica’s pretty sure her mouth drops open. “Wow. That is not what I expected at all.”

Logan bends his knees so they are level as he scans her face. “Good surprise? Or—”

“No, no.” She cuts him off. “Great surprise. Just, I thought it would be some place like...the Grand Canyon or Las Vegas. I’ve never been to D.C.”

“I know. Your dad told me.”

“You cleared this with him first?” 

She’s not sure what she thinks of the buddy-buddy relationship that’s developing between Logan and her dad. It’s disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Cleared it, no. But I asked him if he thought you’d like it.”

“And what did he say?”

“Suggested we visit the Spy museum and catch a Nats game.”

“Sounds about right. What is on our agenda for the week?”

“Oh, I’ve got all sorts of things planned.” Logan moves up in the line, orders their drinks—a java chip mocha for her and an Americano for him. Veronica waits until he’s done before pestering him again.

“What sorts of things? You’ve kept me in the dark for too long, now I have to know everything.”

Smirking, he hands the barista his black AmEx and pays for their drinks before spinning back to her. “What do you want to do?” 

“The smithsonians, obviously,” she guesses and he nods. “And all the memorials?”

“Mmmhmm. The Library of Congress is actually really cool, too, plus I thought we’d hit up the Kennedy Center and the National Portrait Gallery, maybe the Newseum. Unfortunately, the Renwick Gallery is closed for renovations.”

“When did you become an art lover?” she teases.

“I’m not.” Logan shrugs and the corner of his mouth quirks up in that crooked smile she can’t get enough of. “But, you know, photography. I thought you’d like it.”

Veronica covers how stunned speechless she is by taking a sip of the mocha he hands her. Not only is he surprising her with this trip, but planning activities he thinks she will like? It’s overwhelming. Then his words catch up to her brain and she gestures at her casual outfit. 

“Uh, the Kennedy Center? I’d love to see a show there but I don’t think you mentioned formal wear on the list of things to bring.”

“I _may_ have bought you something to wear already.” He winks at her. 

“Um, no.”

“No?”

“Look, I think I’ve handled having a rich boyfriend incredibly well.” Logan raises a brow but she continues. “But now you’ve planned this whole trip and it’s too much. You’re not allowed to buy me clothes, too.”

“Don’t worry.” He bobs his eyebrows at her. “It’s ridiculously low cut. I bought it for me.”

Pursing her lips, she tries to hide a smile. She can always circle back to this issue later. For now, she’s too eager about their trip to let it bother her too much. 

“We’ll see.”

After finishing their coffees and making their way through security to their gate, Logan hands over her ticket. Veronica scrutinizes it. 

“First class? Really? Don’t you think that’s a little—”

“Amazing?” He offers. “Luxurious? The only way to travel? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Actually, it does sound pretty awesome. She’s never flown first class but has always wanted to, so she merely rolls her eyes at his antics and settles into an uncomfortable plastic chair to wait for boarding. 

“So, have you been to D.C. before?” she asks as Logan sits next to her, long legs sticking out into the aisle. 

“Yeah, I did a Gilder Lehrman trip for social studies teachers a few years ago. It was really cool.”

“What were your favorite places to visit?”

Logan runs a hand through his hair. “Hmm. The Library of Congress, probably, and the National Archives. I’m excited to see those again.”

“I’m excited to see it all.” Veronica leans over and brushes a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for this.”

“Thanks for trusting me enough to let me surprise you.”

Cupping her face, he kisses her lips, sending shivers down her spine. Okay, they’re not headed to a tropical beach destination, but maybe the skimpy lingerie she packed won’t go to waste after all. 

* * *

First class was excellent; truly an experience in being pampered. And, once she gave herself permission, Veronica secretly loved every minute of it. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. 

Gulping, she gazes around the Hay-Adams hotel. The outside had been impressive enough with the white brick, colonnades, and flags, but it did nothing to prepare her for the interior. Lush brocade carpets, stamped vaulted ceilings, and mahogany paneled columns all infused with a soft glow from the chandeliers make her catch her breath. She’s pretty sure she can see the White House through the gauzy curtains fluttering at the windows. It’s too much.

“Logan,” she hisses in the hushed lobby. “What were you thinking?”

“What?” He glances around. “Don’t you like it?”

“Like it? I—” Breaking off, she clears her throat and lowers her voice. “It’s lovely. But I was expecting the Holiday Inn or something.”

“I know you’re not okay with flashy. But think of it this way.” His eyes gleam like a mental light bulb has just gone off. “We’re saving time and money, being close to all the attractions. No wasting it on the train into the city.”

“Hence the walking shoes.” She points to her sneakers, realizing he’s won this round. 

“Exactly, Mars.” Smug, he hands his stupid Black AmEx over to the concierge and she forces herself not to make this a big deal. Luxury is definitely not what she’s used to but she’s willing to make an exception for Logan. 

* * *

It’s difficult to pull her suitcase into their hotel room. The cheap wheels keep getting stuck in the deep plush of the carpet. Since the lobby was intimidatingly fancy, she shouldn’t be surprised that the actual room is the most luxurious space she’s ever been in. A king size bed, spacious sitting area with two cream couches, subtly striped wallpaper in shades of eggshell, fresh flowers, and actual antique furniture that George Washington probably used, himself—she’s not sure she should be allowed to touch anything. 

Flopping down on the giant white bed, Logan stares at the ceiling, then rolls over and pats the spot next to him. 

“Wanna test it out?” He bobs his eyebrows suggestively and her stomach flips. It’s tempting but...

Veronica shakes her head. “I feel gross from the airplane. I think I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

Slipping into the bathroom, she strips and twists her hair on top of her head. Adjusting the taps on the claw foot tub, she pulls the curtain closed and hops in, letting the warm water soothe away her travel stress and concerns about the extravagance of the trip.

The air cools as the door opens. Shower curtain rustling, Logan pokes his head in. “Do you need your back scrubbed? You know it’s my specialty.”

Veronica gulps. He’s good at all kinds of things in the shower. 

“Hmm...” Running her hands down her body, she gives him a coy smile. “I _could_ use some help.”

This vacation together certainly has its perks. And the spacious shower is at the top of her list. 

* * *

Veronica can’t help the gasp that escapes her as she gazes at the Pulitzer Prize photography exhibit in the Newseum. It’s incredible. 

At Logan’s chuckle, she tears her eyes away from the flag raising over Iwo Jima and glances at him. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just, you. Your face.”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“No, it’s great. You’re lit all up like a Christmas tree.”

“But, look at it.” She gestures at the photo on display in front of them. “How can you not be? I mean, first of all, the grey scale in this picture is unreal. The lighting is just perfect. But more than that, when you see it, you feel patriotic and inspired but also overwhelmed by their struggle, by the whole conflict it represents. And you think about what they must have gone through and—”

“You really love photography, huh?” Cutting her off, he steps closer, slings his arm around her shoulders and studies the iconic picture. “Will you tell me which one is your favorite and why?”

“Just one?” 

Laughing, he drops a kiss on her head. “As many as you want.”

Linking their fingers, Veronica tugs Logan along with her.

“Okay, this one.” She points at a color picture of a surprised toddler being passed through a barbed wire fence in Kosovo as fleeing refugees wait to enter a safe camp in Albania. “You can feel their desperation. It takes a lot for a mom to pass her baby off to strangers but it makes you think about the alternative. And the framing, with the barbed wire across the sky?” Her fingers trace the lines. “It draws the eye in perfectly.”

Veronica clears her throat. “Photography is the perfect mixture of skill and luck. Yeah, the photographer that took this is really talented, but she happened to be in the right place at the right time, saw the shot, and captured it. All the factors combined and, bam. A Pulitzer.”

“And here.” Dragging him to the next photo on display, she stops in front of Barack Obama in profile. “This is only from his campaign, I think, but doesn’t he already look presidential? And so determined. We have the benefit of knowing the outcome, but it’s like you can just tell he’s gonna win the election from this picture alone. The composition is really great, too, especially with the rain.”

“You know,” Logan turns to face her. “I’ve never seen any of your photos. Will you show me some when we get home?”

“They’re nothing to write home about. Not like this.”

“I sincerely doubt that. How did you get into photography anyway?”

“My mom.”

Logan’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? She taught you?”

“Oh, no.” Veronica gives a rye chuckle. “After she—well, after my life imploded, my dad thought I needed a hobby. Would you believe he had one of the crime scene photographers tutor me?”

Barking out a laugh, Logan grabs her hands and squeezes. “That sounds exactly like him.”

“It’s really amazing that he was able to keep his job after everything with my mom. If we lived in a place less forgiving than Pan…” she trails off, shuddering. “Neptune would have torn him apart.”

“It’s not something you talk about very much. What happened?”

Frowning, she heads to a bench and sits while Logan follows. 

“My mom’s an alcoholic,” she starts, slowly. “She drove drunk, killed a pedestrian. And then she took off. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Wow, that’s...bad.” He rubs circles on her back. “How did your dad handle it?”

“Professionally, he immediately handed the case to another department. Personally…” Veronica stares at her hands clenched in her lap. “The divorce was hard on him. Devastating, really. I think it’s high time he started dating again.”

“Maybe we can set him up with someone.” Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he teases, “Mrs. Murphy seems nice.”

“She’s ancient! And married.”

“Okay, so, single and not too old. Are those our only requirements?”

“The list is so much longer than that.” Rising to her feet, she pulls him up, thankful for the shift in the mood. “I mean, she’d have to have a good sense of humor, enjoy noir detective movies, and be okay with my dad’s random hours. Oh, and a Padres fan, obviously.”

They wander back over to the exhibit, contemplating a photo taken of protests in Ferguson, Missouri. 

“What about Wallace’s mom? I know she’s a basketball fan because she goes to all the home games. Does she like baseball?”

Veronica spins to face him but he’s solemn. “Alicia? You’re...not joking?”

“No, why?”

“I mean, it’s Wallace’s _mom_. She goes to all the games because he’s the coach.”

“That’s adorable. I don’t see the problem.”

“But...but...it’s _Wallace’s_ mom.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve said. Maybe your response here is why he hasn’t dated much.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with it. Does your mom date a lot?”

“We’re not talking about my mom, buttercup, but your dad.” He bops her nose and she grabs his finger, threatens to bite it.

“Ha. That’s what I thought.”

“Well, if Mrs. Fennel is unacceptable, I’m sure we can find someone. Now come tell me what you like about this picture.”

* * *

“Oh my god,” Logan breathes, eyes dancing like a kid in a candy store. “Do you know how old this is?”

“It says right there.” Veronica indicates the placard. “It’s a copy of the Magna Carta from 1217. So it’s almost 800 years old.”

“798 years old. People wrote that 800 years ago, Veronica.”

“Yeah, I get it. Do you realize everyone else is over there, in line to see the American Declaration of Independence? You’re the only weirdo more interested in British history.”

“Yes, but, 800 years.”

“Logan Echolls. You’re a closet nerd, aren’t you?” she teases, and to her surprise, a blush colors his cheeks.

“I’m not a nerd.”

“Oh, I’m sure you weren’t in high school. Based on what I know of Neptune High’s social structure, you were probably at the top of the food chain. 09er all the way, right?”

Logan grimaces. “Yeah. But I didn’t always use my power for good.”

“When did you move to Neptune, again?”

Idly, Veronica moves away from the Magna Carta and gets in line to view the Declaration of Independence. 

“My junior year of high school. Right after everything with my dad, you know.” Coming to stand behind her, he waves a hand in the air to encompass all the details of that scandal. 

Veronica did know. Everyone knew. It had been all over the gossip pages when Aaron Echolls was caught with his pants down—with his son’s underage girlfriend, no less. Lynn quickly divorced him and moved herself and Logan to Neptune, where she threw herself into local theater productions and tried to keep him out of the limelight. 

Logan’s high school exploits after that didn’t achieve national coverage, but Veronica had heard the rumors from the other teachers. It was kind of amazing that Clemmons had hired him to teach at Neptune after everything that he had done, but maybe the “local boy makes good” angle was too much for Van to resist. Social Studies teachers aren’t hard to find, so the fact that Logan is excellent at his job and beloved by students and staff doesn’t hurt, either.

“So I bet you hid your nerd status pretty hard to fit in at your new school.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah, I organized bum fights and was a mouthy jackass so no one would know I was reading _Harry Potter_ when I got home.”

“We all cope in different ways,” she murmurs, grabbing his hand.

“I wonder what you would have thought of me if we knew each other in high school?”

“An 09er like you would have never talked to me.”

Logan leers at her. “Oh, I knew all the cute, petite blondes, believe me.”

His eyes widen at something over her shoulder and his voice changes pitch, excited. 

“Veronica.” He squeezes her fingers as they move up in line. “There it is. The Declaration of Independence.”

They stand in front of the document, sealed in protective glass. The security guard nearby eyes Logan as he leans forward to see it better, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“I can’t believe I’m in love with such a nerd.”

Logan freezes, stiffening, and Veronica’s hand flies up to her mouth but she can’t put the words back in. 

Turning to her, Logan blinks. 

“You’re...what?”

“I—I didn’t, I mean—”

“I love you, too, Veronica.” 

His eyes twinkle with joy as he cradles her face, brushes his lips against hers. 

“Do you want to take it back?” he asks as he pulls away enough to gaze at her. 

“No.”

Grabbing a fistful of his soft t-shirt, she hauls him in for a proper kiss, pouring everything she feels but can’t say into it. His hands slide into her hair, holding her to him and—

“Hey, stop that!”

The burly security guard heads over to them, frowning. 

“This is a priceless historical document! People have been waiting to see it. Take that somewhere else.”

“But, but—”

Brushing aside Logan’s protests, he shoos them out of the way.

“You don’t understand! I—”

“Come on, babe.” Veronica drags Logan away from the display, giggling.

“Did we just get caught making out in front of the Declaration of Independence? Did you get us kicked out of the National Archives? I can’t even—”

Kissing the shocked look off his face, Veronica winks. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

* * *

“No, this one’s on me.” Veronica swoops in front of Logan to hand the barista her credit card. Starbucks is once again their go-to stop in the airport. “After everything you treated me to this week, I get to buy you a cup of coffee.”

Logan wraps his arm around her waist, loosely resting his hand on her hip. “Was it a good surprise?”

Veronica thinks back over the highlights of their trip—the museums, the memorial mall, the Kennedy Center and dinner out. The time together, the two of them away from their jobs and responsibilities, just enjoying each other and deepening their relationship.

“The best.” She clears her throat. “But it’s not over.”

His forehead creases. “What do you mean?”

“Logan, this was amazing. I had a blast. But...my feet hurt. We hit D.C. pretty hard. I need a vacation from our vacation.” His face falls and she whips out her phone before he can voice his disappointment. “So now it’s my turn to surprise you.” 

Tilting the screen, she angles it so he can see the boarding passes.

“Myrtle Beach? What?”

“It’s not too far. My treat this time. Just a quick little trip, three days, two nights, before we head back to Neptune. We’re going to lie on the beach and do nothing but drink pina coladas and read books.” 

Watching Logan’s face change from confused to ecstatic makes her own heart constrict with delight.

“But.” He gestures up and down at his jeans, sneakers, and fitted v-neck t-shirt. “I didn’t pack for the beach. Whatever shall I wear?”

Mocking her, he bats his eyelashes. But the surprise trip isn’t the only trick up her sleeve.

Digging in her purse, she emerges triumphant, dangling a tiny piece of blue fabric in front of his face.

“I _may_ have bought you something already. A bathing suit.” She echoes his own words back to him. “Don’t worry, it’s ridiculously skimpy. I bought it for me.”

A laugh bursts out of him, and he picks her up and swings her around, then kisses her on the lips.

“I love you, Mars.”

“I love you, too,” she breathes, then clears her throat. “Now, stop before we get yelled at for making out in the Starbucks line.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Logan places a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose.

Veronica huffs, tries to pretend like it bothers her, and fails. “Probably won’t be the last.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to ayyohh for her incredible beta help, especially when this one had to be pulled out of me. And thanks to yellowcrayonwillow for her suggestions and expert DC knowledge! Oh, and thanks to NorCal91 and BryroseA for answering random teacher questions :)


End file.
